


Forward

by DirtyComputer



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Incest Kink, Masturbation, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyComputer/pseuds/DirtyComputer
Summary: Futaba and Joker only have each other on what happens to be a particularly frisky night for them both.





	Forward

frustrating, blue ball inducing date with Makoto sent Ren home in a huff. She had backed out at the last minute. She “wasn’t ready” to do it. It was an understandable position and Ren would never pressure her into it, but it would be a lie to say he held no resentment to being basically sentenced to a lengthy fap session after all the time and money spent on a date that night.

He wandered into the diner in the dead of friday night. Shojiro had long given him a key, expecting a boy his age to come and go as he pleased. He locked the door behind him and trekked upstairs, pausing partway up at the noise her heard. Quiet, rapid noises that seemed like splashing. Was there a leak?

A gasp made him raise an eyebrow. Another. A moan. What the hell was Morgana doing up there? Was it even him?

He wandered up the steps, this time slowly so as to catch the perp in the act. Phantom Thief style. He peaked into his own room, feeling like an intruder. The bed was it’s usual mess of clothes and sheets but a shape was shifting back and forth

The shape started to become more clearly defined as Ren finished his climb. A bare pair of thighs with a hand running between them rapidly. His face flushed as the smell and the sight hit him. The intruder’s hand was thrust into her striped black and white panties, exploring the inside of the fabric rapidly. 

A familiar white and red tank top. Her face was covered, shirt splayed over it as she took deep breaths, but even if everything else didn’t clue him in, the orange hair would have.

“Futaba.” He breathed.

She jumped up, tossing the shirt to the floor and scurrying to cover herself with the sole tank top she wore, stuttering and spamming in her usual shrill voice. Her face was covered in sheer panic as she grasped at the blankets to cover herself. Her cheeks were more vibrant than her hair, somehow. 

“It’s not what it looks like.” She breathed, breath above a half whisper. “Please don’t hate me.”

Ren sucked in a breath. If this had happened at any other time he’d be more than a little grossed out The only thought that ran through his mind was “At least someone was having fun tonight.” 

She pleaded, puppydog eyes in full force. “Please don’t tell Sojiro at least. He’d kill me for even coming this late! That’s not even getting int-Ren?.”

Her eyes widened as Ren didn’t respond, simply slowly walking over to his bed. The fog of his glasses created a sinister image. 

He sat next to her, watching her lean away a bit as if he was about to lash out. She was on the right track as he slowly but surely pulled the covers off of her and exposed the rest of her thighs. “Ren.” She whispered. He put a hand on her thin waist through the fabric of the tank top, crawling the rest of the way to kissing her. 

Futaba let out a confused hum as Ren pressed himself onto her. Her chest busted with equal parts elation and confusion. It was technically a dream come true. The boy she’d just been having erotic dreams about had stumbled into the room and jumped on her without question. It was all happening too fast and too quickly.

By the time Ren came back to earth he was on top of her, hands pinning her wrists as he looked at her. Her glasses were crooked. She was flushed red and her eyes were wide with a sort of alertness that sent a shock to his brain.

“Too forward.” Ren breathed. It wasn’t a question. There was no question about it. 

“A little.” Futaba whispered after hesitation. She didn’t know if she wanted him to stop, but the fact that she wasn’t certain was more than enough to justify a pause. 

He was ready to relent, ready to get off of her and apologize to her a thousand times before she said. “l...I think I like forward.” In a thin, airy whisper.

It recharged him like a lighting bolt. He was on top of her again in an instant, Futaba less surprised and more welcoming to the assault than before as she locked her legs around him and clutched him for dear life. The difference in size between them became apparent as they thrusted against eachother like it was second nature. It was a massive leap in boundaries for the surrogate siblings but both of them seemed too out of it to care. Futaba was clueless, content to let Ren lead the dance with the smoothness he was known for as he explored her mouth with his tongue, dancing circles around hers in a way that made her blush.

Finally he drew away from her, watching her take in a brief, dorky gasp for air as a strand of drool connected their lips. The expression behind her crooked glasses was a mess of emotions. She seemed both hesitant and wanting. Anxious and aroused beyond belief. 

The way she gyrated against his hips showed where the scales tipped, though. Without any hesitation he dove into the nape of her neck, relishing at how she yelped from the sensation. Everything about Futaba suddenly seemed so tantalizing. Her bright orange hair, her cute features, her skinny frame, her bare, milky legs..

As Joker’s mind drifted, his hands couldn’t help but trail down and toy with her thigh, drawing circles with her finger. The pressure on her neck and the slow, sensual circles being drawn closer and closer to her hips were already sensory overload for poor Futaba. A girl who’s biggest conquest was a moderately large dildo. This was already a completely different beast though. One that left her ready to come if the breeze blew the wrong way without her even having to take her panties off. 

It left her a wiggling, squirming, moaning mess under Ren, who was enjoying every bit of it and relishing the way she wormed against his tight bulge. After a light bite he left her neck, content with the mark he left her with. A calling card.

He glanced at her again before putting his hands firmly on her hips and drawing the tank top up her body. It wasn’t with any of the sensuality or finesse Futaba expected her first time to have. Rather, it was with the frisky, feverous hunger she had WANTED all along as he buried his face in her tiny chest, latching onto a nub and sucking. The loud moan sent a rush through his system that motivated him to go further. He toyed with her nipple between his lips as his hand drew down her bare stomach and toward her striped panties.

Futaba gripped his shaggy mop of hair as she got played like an instrument. “I guess you like DFC.” She breathed. No clue what the fuck that meant, but Ren knew the consequences of banging Futaba going in. Or rather, he was worked up enough to forego said consequences. Hearing weird shit was whatever now as long as she kept her legs open.

His hand had gotten bolder and bolder, now drawing circles on the damp fabric. As Futaba instinctively contracted and closed her legs around him, he slipped his arm under a milky thigh, hooking it up into place and continuing his assault uninhibited. Futaba’s dramatic gestures could be felt, heard and even smelt even if they couldn’t be seen as she jerked against his hand and moaning as the smell of sex filled the room. He was practically fingering her through her panties at this point, pressing against her mound.

He sat up from her chest only so he could focus on fingering her. He didn’t even want to rob her of pleasure long enough for her to take her panties off, pulling them aside and fingering her entrance with a steady hand. What threw her over the top was really the way his eyes burned into hers, lording over her like a phantom thief that had eyes on their prey.

She didn’t last long.

“Ghh! Hhh! Hah!” Three grunts. Three pelvic thrusts. Three shots of quim. One jittering little cunt dancing under his touch. 

Futaba looked like she’d seen another dimension. Like something had broken, but another thing had fallen into place to fix it. Soft, pleading eyes looked up at Ren. “We’re not done yet, are we?” She breathed as she watched him feverishly remove his pants.

What a silly question.

\--

He looked her in the eyes the entire time he pushed inside her, watching her soft face carefully for discomfort. The control he exhibited as her tight snatched began to grip him was impressive, but neither of them was counting on it lasting. 

Futaba on the other hand was practically about to snap her legs around his hips, his firm grip on one the only thing stopping her as he pumped into her at his own surprisingly restrained pace. 

Slowly but surely Ren’s mind started to blur as he pushed halfway inside of her, noting that she was practically already losing it but losing the ability to care as his pace increased. The sweet, empathetic part of him was being drowned out by a sinister voice. She asked for this. She agreed to be his little sex toy tonight because she wanted it. She wasn’t looking out for him, and really it was that stuck up Makoto’s fault anyway.

Every dark thought was punctuated with a deeper thrust and a quicker follow-up like a gear ship. Futaba’s voice raised and octave with each one. Her toes curled as Ren abandoned his perch above her to press down into her, his balls audibly slapping her taint. Her head shot upward toward the bed post and she let out a hoarse moan. She’d let loose again all over his privates.

Ren couldn’t help but smirk and kissed her forehead as Futaba whined. She buried her face into his bare chest, gripping him tighter as they rocked back and forth and the bed croaked underneath them. For the first time that night, Ren began to moan audibly as Futaba’s tight little pussy drew out every pent up emotion he gathered that night with every thrust. The sound of slapping skin backed their duet of moans and groans perfectly as the unnatural coupling suddenly became the most natural thing in the world.

Joker sat up a little, pinning one arm to the bed as he placed his hand loosely around her throat. Futaba seemed too drugged up on his cock to speak, but she bit her lip nodded in an eager way that messed her already crooked glasses up even more. She was so cute but oh so kinky at the same time. Makoto was barely a memory.

From there things got a little more haphazard as she clung to him even tighter in response. He gripped her neck tighter turn as things took a turn for the chaotic. His thrusts got more haphazard as they pushed against eachother, eager to be the one that draws out the climax. 

“Big brother!” She hissed, yelping and grinding her teeth in that cute little way she did when she was flustered or she messed up. He was almost too lost in her pussy to catch that. He couldn’t tell if her face twisted from pleasure or embarrassment. 

He dove on top of her again, ramping up his thrusts back to a faster, more consistent pace as he felt his balls about to burst. He planned to take Futaba’s offer to it’s natural conclusion and blow his load inside of her, so drunk on pussy that he couldn’t even begin to fathom the consequences. 

The heat in his core busted free as he shot his first shot into her. A lengthy, powerful string that poured deep into her before the turret of the rest of his heated spunk followed. He grasped her closely, still thrusting to ride out the rest of his orgasm before he came to his senses and realized how wrong this all was.

They shook and shuttered against eachother before Joker withdrew, peeling off of the soaked Tank top. He looked over his handiwork. Futaba sat in a daze with her legs dangling apart, his cream stuffing her snatch full to the point where it was seeking out. 

She surprised him when her sweat coated limbs started to shift. She sat up, ignoring the seed dripping onto the sheets to kiss him. The spark that went through him as her glasses pressed against his face told him all he needed to know. This was real, and it was here to stay.

When they withdrew, Futaba bit her lip, that pleading expression somehow not extinguished. Her hand drifted toward her thighs. “Can we go again? Please?”

 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He said, grabbing her hips and spinning her around so she was on all fours. Her cute little ass was the motivation he needed to say what he was about to say.

“Because big brother isn’t done with you yet.” He spat out after some hesitation, kicking himself mentally.

Futaba let out a pleased squeak and for the moment saying that weird hentai shit seem worth it. Almost. 

\--

 

Ren woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. Drawing himself away from the head of hair he’d been nuzzled in for the night. A thin light emanate from his bedside, lighting up the attic in the early morning. He reached over her to grab it, checking the sole new message.

Makoto’s icon sat in front of him with an apology for last night and an offer to talk right beside it. 

Without hesitation, he quickly typed. “Actually, I don’t think this is working.” 

The phone silenced and dropped in an instant as he wrapped his arms around Futaba and went back to sleeping away his Saturday morning. She hummed in her sleep as he nuzzled against her, content.


End file.
